


A Very Shitty New Year's

by irretrievablynerdy



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: All Haus Friendship - Freeform, F/M, Gen, M/M, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irretrievablynerdy/pseuds/irretrievablynerdy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys of the Haus go to Shitty’s mom’s cabin for New Year’s. Jack frets over hockey equipment, Shitty gets lost in a forest, Bitty has a Moment, Shitty plays matchmaker, Ransom and Holster have a question for Shitty, Jack has a Moment, and Shitty makes a phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Shitty New Year's

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sionainne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sionainne/gifts).



> This is my 'Swawesome Santa 2014 gift for S! Self-beta'd, so hopefully there aren't too many glaring errors. Hope y'all enjoy!

December 29th, 11:28 AM

“Guys, we were supposed to be on the road a half-hour ago!” Bitty stood at the the front door of the Haus, tapping his foot impatiently.

Shitty smiled to himself. Bitty was going to go all Southern matriarch if they didn’t leave the Haus in the next fifteen minutes. Everyone was excited to spend New Year’s up at Shitty’s family cabin near Northampton, but getting five college guys fed, ready, and out the door by 11 AM when there were no classes was a bit of a pipe dream. 

Holster was doing some last-minute agonizing over which movies and TV shows to take so that he could, in Ransom’s words, “forcibly culture everyone.” That would take at least ten more minutes, so Shitty had decided to take care of some mustache grooming he had been putting off.

“Bits, we’re fine!” he yelled from the bathroom. “It’s not even a two-hour drive, we’ve got plenty of time. Five more minutes, throw together a pie or something!” There was some barely-audible grumbling from downstairs and Shitty smiled again.

Jack poked his head into the bathroom. “Shitty, last time we went on a road trip you got us lost in a forest for four hours. Bittle might have a point.”

“Brah, really? That was one time, and we’ve got five fuckin’ GPS-capable devices with us. Don’t sweat it. Besides, you’re the one who’s been trying to decide what hockey gear to bring for the last hour,” Shitty smirked, nearly nicking himself with his razor. 

“Well, you said there was a pond there we could skate on, so I just wanted to be prepared.” Jack went back to his room and started zipping up his duffel bags. 

“We’re only going for five days, you’re not going to suddenly forget how to play if you’re away from Faber for more than 24 hours.” Shitty, having finished up, cleaned off his razor and threw it into a bag with the rest of his things. 

He zipped up the bag and turned around. Bitty was now pointedly pacing up and down on the landing, occasionally shooting dirty looks through Jack and Shitty’s doorways. Shitty went to his door and looked up at the ceiling. “Holster, just fuckin’ throw all seven Harry Potter movies in your bag or some shit or I’m ordering Ransom to drag you downstairs and lock you in the trunk!” he yelled. 

“You’re not the boss of me!” Ransom yelled back, somewhat muffled by the intervening ceiling.

Holster appeared at the bottom of the attic stairs with a legal pad in his hand. “I already got those. I was just putting together some notes on 30 Rock and Parks and Rec for the car ri—”

Bitty stopped pacing suddenly and held up a hand to silence Holster. “If y’all aren’t in the car in three minutes so help me or I’m not baking anything for y’all for the next five days.”

Shitty’s station wagon pulled away from the Haus a very frantic two minutes and forty five seconds later. 

***

December 29th, 3:42 PM

“Hey Shitty,” Jack said from the passenger seat as he turned down the volume on Nicki Minaj. “You’re well on your way to setting a new record for getting lost in a forest.”

Shitty glanced over at him with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. “Well, my dear captain, if you hadn't made us stop at two different Revolutionary War memorials we might have beat the snow and not missed the sign for our turn.” 

He looked out at the snowy forest surrounding them. “I forgot there’s basically no cell phone signal out here. We’ve gotta be almost there, though. Besides, it’s a fuckin’ adventure with your bros!” Jack rolled his eyes but smiled slightly all the same.

Bitty, scrunched in the middle seat between Ransom and Holster, looked out at the darkening one-lane road ahead of them. “Shitty, where even are we?” he asked timorously.

“Somewhere between Westhampton and Northampton,” Shitty responded. “We should be there in a few minutes.”

Bitty was still looking at the snow with a certain amount of trepidation. “How do you know where you are?”

“Meh, I used to come out here all the fuckin’ time with my parents back in the day. My mom got the cabin in the divorce, which is good, since my dad probably woulda sold it after all the indictment bullshit. She mostly uses it as a vacation rental these days, but she said I could have it for New Year’s this year. Ah, here we go.”

Shitty pulled the car off the forest road and onto something that barely qualified as a gravel path. After a minute they came to a large clearing. In front of them was a two-story house artfully constructed to look like an old-fashioned log cabin. It was surrounded by snow-covered fields, and a large pond off behind the house was just visible in the rapidly-fading daylight. 

Ransom let out a low whistle. “Shitty, this is a cabin?” he asked incredulously. “It’s almost bigger than the Haus!” 

Holster threw his arm around Ransom’s shoulder, crushing Bitty slightly in the process. “Oh man, we’re gonna have a sick time!” Not even belting Beyoncé with Bitty on the drive down had done much to alleviate Holster’s perpetual grumpiness, especially after Shitty had gotten lost, but now he was grinning widely. He glanced at Shitty as the car pulled up to the cabin. “I bet you’re bummed Lardo couldn’t come with us. Now you can’t take her on moonlit walks through snowy fields and tell her— hey!” Holster was interrupted by an empty coffee cup straight to the forehead.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you talking?” Shitty said with mock concern. “I was just cleaning up.” Ransom and Holster smirked at each other. Sometimes it was just too easy to chirp Shitty. 

“This is pretty impressive, Shits,” said Jack as he looked up at the front of the house. Coming from Jack, this was nothing short of a rave review.

“Well, I guess there are some advantages to having a douchebag corporate fuckup of a dad,” Shitty said, happy to change the subject. “Why don’t you guys unload the car and I’ll go turn all the lights and shit on.”

***

December 29th, 4:05 PM

“Shitty, why didn’t you tell me about this?!” Bitty was practically bouncing off the walls of the enormous kitchen. He kept running his hands over the brushed copper countertops and eyeing the hanging pot rack with something that could only be described as lust.

“I haven’t cooked with gas burners in so long! Oh my gosh, I need to start thinking about menus! There are TWO OVENS!” He opened the cupboard under the kitchen island and gasped. “Is this… oh my Lord… the Le Creuset cast iron Ultimate Set?” Bitty was quiet for a moment. He looked up at everyone gathered around the counter, his eyes ablaze with ambition. As one man, Jack, Shitty, Ransom and Holster all took a step back.

“Shitty.” Bitty’s voice was calm, but there was steel in it. “Where is the nearest grocery store.”

“Uh, um,” Shitty stuttered, “I think there’s one down the road. If you hang a left out the driveway and go a few miles there’s a little town.”

“Good.” Bitty stood up and reviewed his troops. “Ransom, Holster. You’re with me.” They both snapped to attention without quite understanding why. “Ransom, you’ve got wifi now, pull up some directions on your phone and get in the car. Holster, you’re driving. I need to plan.” Bitty took the car keys from the counter. “Let’s move.” He turned and exited the house without another word. 

“I… I guess we’ll get some beer while we’re at it,” Ransom said weakly. He and Holster followed Bitty out of the house in a daze. 

Shitty and Jack stared at the door for a moment before turning to each other. Shitty grinned. “There’s a reason I didn’t tell him about the kitchen,” he chuckled. “So worth it.”

Jack looked pensive for a moment. “Why do you suppose he took Ransom and Holster?” he asked.

“Who knows, bro. All I know is that it wouldn’t have been a good idea to fuckin’ argue with him. Why don’t we get the bags upstairs?”

Shitty and Jack lugged the various duffel bags up a spiral staircase to the second floor. The walls were paneled with wood, and despite its size, the house felt very cozy. “Alright. I’m takin’ my own room, ‘cause nostalgia, ya know?” Shitty began. “Rans and Holtzy can have the guest room across from me—”

“Shitty,” Jack said quietly, interrupting him. “Um, I’m not really sure how to say this… but, I guess, well. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh, sure brah, what is it?” Shitty said, setting a bag down on the floor in his room and motioning for Jack to sit down on the bed.

“Well… it’s just… I’ve been hanging out with Bittle a lot, and, well, I don’t know…” Jack’s voice trailed off. He took a deep breath and tried again. “I mean, he’s doing a lot better on the ice these days, his game is really improving…” Shitty was giving him a look. Jack decided to take another tack. “I don’t know, I just want to spend more time with him?” 

Jack looked at over at his friend as if pleading for Shitty to read Jack’s mind so he wouldn’t have to keep talking. Shitty smiled obligingly through his mustache and stood up. “Gotcha,” he said. “Already got it taken care of. You and Bitty are gonna be in the master bedroom at the end of the hall.”

Jack blushed slightly, but didn't offer any resistance.

“That’s what I thought,” Shitty continued. “You guys already room together on away games and the pull-out couch in the den is super uncomfortable. I wouldn’t want you sleep on something funny and lose your precious hockey powers.” Shitty reached out and attempted to pinch Jack’s cheek, but Jack swatted his hand away, smirking ever so slightly.

Shitty smiled sagely and beckoned for Jack to follow him. “C’mon, you beautiful fucker, I’ll show you the pond where you’ll no doubt be spending most of you time.”

***

December 30th, 8:14 PM

Ransom and Holster were doing the last of the dishes after Bitty’s second feast of the trip. Bitty was still puttering around the kitchen, gathering ingredients to make dessert. Jack and Shitty, defeated by Bitty’s culinary skill, were sprawled out on the couch in the living room and groaning occasionally about their full bellies.

“Fuckin’ A man, Bitty’s gone full Julia Child with this kitchen. I can’t remember the last time I ate this well,” said Shitty, absentmindedly flicking through channels on the TV. 

“Who’s that?” Jack asked lazily.

“Aww, c’mon bro, you’ve gotta know Julia Child! She was on PBS all the time, cooked a fuckton of French food, tawlked loike thiiis?” Shitty’s impression elicited a snort of laughter from Jack.

“Maybe,” Jack admitted. “Oh, wait, Bittle made me read one of her cookbooks when we were taking that food seminar together.”

“Hey Bits!” Shitty yelled towards the kitchen. “Jack actually remembers who Julia Child is! Alert the prime minister!” Jack shot Shitty a look that managed to be somehow both murderous and thankful.

Bitty appeared in the doorway, stirring a mixing bowl. “I should hope so, seeing as how I made him read all of _The Art of French Cooking_ , not just the bit we had to do for class.” Bitty looked at Jack with pride in his eyes. “He made some really delicious omelettes after that.” Jack blushed a deep red and pretended to be interested in the blanket next to him.

Bitty’s gaze lingered on Jack for a long moment. Shitty made a mental note. “Anyway,” Bitty said, coming to his senses, “Ransom and Holster wanted me to tell you they’re going to go outside and skate a little on the pond now that we’re all done with dinner.”

“Oh, great, I’ll go get my stuff,” said Jack, his post-dinner malaise banished by thoughts of hockey.

“Whoa there tiger, give me a sec,” said Shitty, struggling slightly to get off the couch. Jack helped him up and they all returned to the kitchen together. 

Ransom and Holster were already out on the pond, lit by a floodlight on the side of the house. From the window Bitty watched Ransom try to put Hoster into a headlock, a tricky proposition on ice skates. They both fell into a snowdrift at the side of the pond. He chuckled to himself as Shitty and Jack came back with their skates and sticks.

“I’ve gotta get this pie in the oven, but I’ll head out in a minute,” Bitty said. He paused for a moment. “Actually, Shitty, can you hang back for a second and help me with a couple things?”

A sudden look of understanding flitted across Shitty’s face. “Alright, Bits. Jack, why don’t you go on ahead. Go show Holtzy and Ransy-poo how it’s done, I know it’s been a whole five hours since you were last on the ice.” 

Jack looked slightly bemused by the situation, but went outside anyway.

Shitty turned back towards Bitty, who suddenly appeared nervous as he fiddled with the mixture in the bowl. “Was there something you wanted to talk to me about, Bits?” he asked.

“Yeah, there is,” Bitty said quietly.

“Tell ya what. Why don’t you put down the mixing bowl, grab a couple beers from the fridge, and we’ll get a fire going,” said Shitty. “It’s gonna be cozy as shit up in here.”

Bitty looked conflicted for a moment, since he wasn’t used to leaving a pie unfinished, but ultimately put down the bowl. They went into the living room together.

Shitty bent down in front of the fireplace and started assembling logs. Bitty sat down on the edge of the couch and took a quick swig of beer. “I need to tell you this, Shitty, since I feel like you’re the only one who’s going to understand it and I don’t know what to do.” Bitty took another nervous drink of beer. “The thing is, I’ve been spending so much more time with Jack this year, and it’s been great hanging out with him and helping him cook and getting to skate with him…” Bitty trailed off, aware he was rambling slightly. Shitty turned around and gave him an encouraging look.

“I mean, he’s the captain of the team, and my friend, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that or my relationship to the team, but I feel like he’s starting to be more than my friend, and it seems like sometimes he thinks that too, or maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my part, I don’t know, I guess what I’m trying to say is, I think I have a crush on Jack,” gasped Bitty finally, out of breath.

“I know,” said Shitty simply.

“You knew?” Bitty would have clutched his pearls had he been wearing any. A new thought crossed his mind and he suddenly looked even more aghast. “You didn’t say anything, did you?!”

“Of course not, Bits. I figured either you would work it out alone or you’d come talk to me.” Shitty turned around to face Bitty and grabbed his beer off the coffee table. “I didn’t want to push you into anything you weren’t ready for before, but now, I’ll just say this.” He took a drink from the bottle before turning back to the fireplace. “You should probably mention it to Jack. I think you’d both enjoy the result.”

“Oh,” said Bitty, blushing profusely. “Well… that’s… I guess I’ll… go finish up that pie, then.” He left the room slowly, lost in thought.

“Haha!” Shitty shouted a moment later as flames leapt up from the logs in front of him. “How’s that for a fuckin’ metaphor,” he said to himself, suddenly thinking of Johnson.

***

December 31st, 1:43 PM

Snow was falling lightly in downtown Northampton. The boys had decided to head into town to get lunch on New Year’s Eve and were now walking around a bit before heading back to the cabin to begin their revelry. Shitty was fairly certain his advice to Bitty the night before hadn’t gone unheeded. Jack and Bitty had been finding any excuse they could to be touching or otherwise in close proximity to one another all day. Their ineptness at hiding it would have been almost sad were it not also incredibly adorable, Shitty thought.

Bitty pulled up short as they walked down the sidewalk. “Ooo, a used bookstore!” he said enthusiastically, to no one in particular. “Oh hey, they’re still open! I’m gonna go see if they have any old cookbooks. Here, come help me, Jack!” Bitty grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled him up the steps into the shop. 

Ransom, Holster, and Shitty were left outside with Bitty and Jack completely oblivious to their absence. Shitty chuckled to himself and started to go into the shop, but he was held back by a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Shitty,” said Ransom, who was wearing an unreadable expression on his face. He exchanged a significant glance with Holster. “Can we talk to you for a second?”

“Sure, dude, what’s up?” asked Shitty. 

“Well, Holster and I have been trying to figure something out for a while.” Ransom glanced up towards the bookstore. “What exactly is the deal with Jack and Bitty? They’ve been acting weird around each other for a while. Well, weirder than normal for Jack, anyway, but then this morning…”

“They were all over each other in the kitchen,” finished Holster. “I mean, I know Jack’s generally inept at cooking, but I don’t know that anyone needs that much hands-on instruction to make pancakes.” He glanced at Shitty, whose brow was beginning to furrow slightly. 

“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that,” spluttered Holster quickly. “We just wanted to make sure we weren’t missing something. Honestly, I hope they are together or something now. They could both use the stress relief.” He looked pensive for a moment. “Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I only heard the shower once this morning.”

Ransom chuckled and gave Shitty a sly look. “You know, Shitster, you and Bitty were talking were talking last night for a little while before you came outside. _Do_ you know anything about this?”

Shitty gave them his best enigmatic smile, which was mostly mustache. “I dunno, bro.” Ransom rolled his eyes. Shitty briefly wondered if he should have gone for something more profound, but then locked his gaze on both Ransom and Holster. 

“Just do me a favor, yeah?” The smile shrank slightly as it became more serious, but didn’t fade away entirely. “Don’t go chirping them right away, yeah? Give ‘em a little room. I have a feeling they’ll let us know soon enough.”

Ransom and Holster grinned and shrugged in unison, which would have been unsettling to Shitty if they didn’t do things like that every other day. “Alright, sounds good, brah,” said Holster. “You know, this reminds me of that episode of _Friends_ where—”

“Yeah, bro code, dude,” said Ransom to Shitty, cutting Holster off with practiced ease. “You know, speaking of the bro code, I consider it my duty to ask if you are ever going to do anything about Lardo?” Shitty glared at him. This felt like revenge for not letting them in on Jack and Bitty’s situation.

“And this isn’t revenge, Shits,” continued Ransom. “Holster and I also wanted to bring this up to you. You’ve been pining away for what, two years now? It’s almost 2015, bro. Time to shit or get off the pot.”

“Thank you for that entirely fuckin’ appropriate metaphor about my love life, Ransom,” snapped Shitty, but his annoyance only lasted a moment before he began to look crestfallen. “Look, she’s my bro, and I’ll deal with it, alright?”

Ransom and Holster gave him sympathetic looks. “Hey, I know what’ll cheer you up, Shits,” said Holster. “Excuse me,” he said, walking up to an undergrad who had just gone past them on the sidewalk. There was a brief, quiet conversation, and Holster handed her some money. She handed him something in return, gave him a bright smile and a business card, and went on her way. Holster came back to Shitty and deposited a small bag of weed in his hand.

“Man, I love Northampton,” said Shitty, grinning.

***

December 31st, 11:59 PM

“Alright, get ready boys, one minute left!” shouted Shitty.

Holster had insisted on finishing the Harry Potter marathon, but Shitty had insisted on making it into a drinking game, so everyone was fairly sloshed in the final moments of 2014. Even Jack had had three drinks instead of his usual one. He and Bitty were curled up next to each other on the couch, trying and failing to make it look like they were touching only accidentally.

Holster switched the TV over to a channel showing Times Square. “Alright, the ball is gonna drop soon! We finished up just in time. How about that, Jack, you’ll go into the brand new year slightly more cultured!” Jack threw a pillow at him.

Bitty looked around at everyone, suddenly slightly panicked. “Oh no, y’all, do we have champagne?” he asked. “It’s not a proper New Year’s if there’s no champagne!”

“Oh shit, I almost forgot!” Shitty said, sitting up. He grinned at Bitty. “What kind of a host do you think I am, Bits?” He darted into the kitchen.

“Hurry, you’ve only got 25 seconds, Shitty!” Bitty yelled after him.

Shitty returned with the champagne and five glasses right as everyone started counting down from ten.

“Ten!”

“Nine!”

“Eight!”

“Seven!”

“Six!” Everyone was standing now.

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One — Happy New Year!” they all shouted together.

As Ransom, Holster, and Shitty laughed and hugged, Jack and Bitty glanced at one another. Bitty looked like was about to say something, but without warning, Jack pulled Bitty to his side, put a hand on the small of his back, and dipped him into a kiss worthy of Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara. The other three boys, caught completely unaware, gaped for a full five seconds before erupting into further laughter and cheers. 

Jack smiled sheepishly as he and Bitty came up for air.

“You charming motherfucker, I didn’t know you knew how to dip someone properly like that,” said Shitty.

“I happen to have hidden depths, Shits,” retorted Jack, grinning from ear to ear. Bitty was still rather red and fanning himself faintly. Jack looked down at him. “That was okay, right?”

“Lord Almighty, yes, Jack, just warn me next time,” Bitty panted, giving Jack a playful smack on the arm. He looked at his friends. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” he said. “Jack and I are officially dating. We weren’t sure how we were gonna tell y’all, but I guess Jack just took care of that…”

Shitty beamed at both of them. “Glad you kids finally figured it out. We’re all happy for you.”

“Let’s get this champagne open and we’ll celebrate!” said Ransom, holding up the bottle.

“Oh hell no, you’ve never been able to open this stuff,” Holster countered, confiscating the bottle from Ransom. “Let me do it.”

Holster opened the bottle carefully, not spilling a drop. He poured it into the five glasses Shitty had set out. “Ugh, you’re no fun, Holtzy,” said Ransom. “What’s the point of champagne if you’re not going to spray it around a little?”

“To drink it, of course!”

“You know, I’m with Holster on this one,” said Bitty. “Why would you wasted perfectly good champagne?”

Jack looked at Bitty, smiling tenderly. “I don’t know, it’s always looked kind of fun to me,” he said. 

As all four of them started in a round of good-natured bickering, Shitty grabbed a glass and slipped out of the room. It was a new year, he thought. Time for new beginnings.

It was freezing out on the porch, but it was the only place anywhere around the cabin that had any cell phone signal. Shitty looked up at the sky. The snow earlier had given way to an absolutely clear night, and innumerable stars twinkled above his head. This far from the lights of town, he could even see the Milky Way. Tearing himself away from the view, he looked down at his phone, tapped it a few times, and put it to his ear. 

“Shitty!” came Lardo’s excited voice. “Happy New Year, bro!”

“Happy New Year to you too, Lardo,” said Shitty. His teeth were chattering ever so slightly, but it wasn’t from the cold. All the booze had seen to that.

“How’s everything up at the cabin, dude? Sorry I couldn’t be there, parents were mad crazy about me being around for all of break.”

“No worries. We’ve been having a ‘swawesome time. I am officially Samwell Men’s Hockey’s snowball fight champion, Rans and Holtzy scored some amazing weed, and Jack and Bitty finally figured their shit out.” 

“Finally.”

“I know, right?”

He paused for a moment, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. “Hey, Lardo?”

“Yeah?”

“When you get back, let’s go into Boston and get dinner. Just the two of us. I’ll tell you all about the trip.”

The other end of the line was quiet. Shitty could hear the sounds of a party in the background. “Mr. Knight, are you asking me out on a date?” Lardo finally said, after what seemed like an eternity to Shitty.

“I guess I am.”

There was another pause. “What took you so long?”

Shitty grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching a lot of _The West Wing_ when I started writing this, hence the timestamp thing.
> 
> Headcanon: Ransom is just bro-y enough that he calls Shitty “Shitster” on occasion but not so bro-y that he winks out of existence. It’s a fine line.
> 
> I do not actually recommend asking random people on the street for drugs, Northampton or otherwise.


End file.
